Someday
by Corinth
Summary: Post first season episode Contact. Olivia and Elliot talk about how hard it is to have a relationship because of their jobs. Please R and R!


I own nothing.

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I was leaning against my car, waiting for Olivia, when she stormed out of the precinct. To anyone else, she would have just looked pissed as hell, which was the way she had been acting all day. But I knew her better than that. Sure, she was mad…but she was more discouraged and sad than anything else. I could just tell.

"Liv!" I yelled because she was so focused on whatever it was that was bothering her that she didn't look to either side. Her eyes snapped to me and some of the rage went out of her gaze. She came over to me.

"Hey," she said in an attempt at nonchalance, but she didn't fool me.

"Hey," I replied back with concern. I looked at her for a few seconds, the light wind whipping strands of hair across her face, until she dropped her eyes and then stared determinedly over my left shoulder. "Let's get something to eat," I said, opening the passenger door and going around to the other side.

She didn't say anything, but she got in anyway, slamming the door a little harder than usual. I glanced at her, then started the car and drove us to a diner near her apartment.

We sat in silence, Olivia steadfastly avoiding my eyes, until we ordered and I decided to break the ice.

"What'd Cragen want with you today?"

She looked up at me, then back at her water glass. She started tracing patterns in the condensation with her fingernail. I saw her draw a heart and then wipe it off. She sighed. "There is this reporter who got a lot of information on the subway guy, and Cragen wanted to know where he found it all out."

"Nick?" I asked. She nodded. "And?" I prompted after she fell back into silence for a few minutes.

"He…he asked me out the other day. Well, he's asked a lot, actually. And I finally went for it. It seemed like it was going really well, and we went back to my apartment."

The waiter came with our food, and I immediately dug in hungrily. Olivia just toyed with her chicken after thanking the man. "We were kissing," she finally said, as if there had been no break in the conversation. I stiffened involuntarily. Whenever I heard about Olivia being with other guys, a bigger part of me than I'd like to admit flared up with jealousy. When I confronted her about sleeping with Cassidy, I wasn't just interested as her partner and friend. I inwardly wanted to rip his head off and heave it across the room.

"Did he try something?" I asked sharply. I knew Olivia could handle herself, but that didn't stop me from being worried about her. I always had nightmares that she was raped, usually because of something I did wrong. Letting my guard down. She'd kill me if I said it to her, but I feel like Olivia is my responsibility. Not my liability, but…I don't know. I just want to protect her.

She shrugged. "Sort of. He um…he wanted me to pretend to be one of the subway vics."

My mouth dropped open. That sick son of a bitch. "Are you serious, Liv?" I demanded so loudly that other diners glanced over at the two of us. Olivia ignored them.

"Yeah. I…I told him to get out, and I went into the bathroom." She shook her head. "I was such an idiot. The files about the rapes were on my desk, and he looked on his way out." She stabbed violently at a piece of chicken.

"I'm so sorry, Olivia."

"Thanks. It's ok. It's just…." She closed her eyes briefly, and then regarded me. "We had drinks first. And he said something about how he and I are in the same position because we both know the horrible things that happen…and how people won't get close to us because of what's in our heads. And then he said he wasn't going away. I thought I could trust him."

Olivia's eyes were shining. My heart was aching for her. I knew what she was feeling. "You're lucky to have Kathy," she said softly. "She got close to you before all this, and she stayed."

I gave a dry laugh. "But she doesn't know anything about what I do because I don't tell her. Sometimes…." I broke off, unable to continue. It was too hard.

"Sometimes what?" Olivia asked quietly.

My hands clenched around my glass. I think it almost shattered, but I forced myself to loosen my grip so it didn't. "I don't think she knows me. Not anymore. I mean, how could she? I can't talk to her about any of this, anything that goes on. And who am I except for all of the shit we see everyday? I'm the job." I sighed hugely. "I'm not close to anyone. Except for you."

I looked up at her, and she didn't look away. She pushed some of her beautiful hair behind her ear, a nervous habit of hers that I loved. "It's funny," she said, "how we aren't supposed to have romantic relationships at work, but it's sort of the only place we conceivably could. Who could understand better?"

"I know." We stared into each other's eyes for a few minutes, neither of us saying anything but both of us understanding everything. Understanding how much we needed each other, how perfect we would be together.

"Maybe…" I said, reaching across the table and resting my hand on her forearm. I ran my thumb back and forth across the skin on her wrist, feeling her goosebumps.

She nodded at me, smiling sadly. We were both thinking the same thing.

Maybe someday.


End file.
